


Spoiled

by GlowwormiK



Series: Pre-rift Zarkon&Honerva [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Secret Past, Secrets Revealed, Zarkon has secrets, zarkon's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 01:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowwormiK/pseuds/GlowwormiK
Summary: We know absolutely nothing about Zarkon's past before meeting the other paladins. This is my attempt to imagine what his early years could have looked like. What will Zarkon spit out when one evening, Honerva is suddenly  way too nice to him?For this one, I looked at the Song of Ice and Fire, at Tywin Lannister's story. I also took inspiration from Russian history. The Zar Alexander II, who freed the slaves and started much-sought liberal reforms, was murdered in a terrorist attack, because radical opposition was unhappy with the speed of the reforms. His successor, Nikolai I, while creating a sticky atmosphere of squealing and oppression and harassing poets and writers, managed to achieve sustainable economic growth, relative prosperity and peace.Can be viewed as a continuation to the Soulmate, but can also be read on its own.





	Spoiled

“Finally I get to hug you!”  
  
Honerva is in really good mood today. She even put on one of her silk night dresses that doesn't cease to amaze Zarkon with its beauty and utter uselessness. She does hug him, and the sensation of her slender body pressed against his fills his stomach with pleasant warmth. With her around, all the problems suddenly vanish.  
  
“Did you succeed with your experiment?” Zarkon asks, unable to contain a stupid smile.  
  
“No, but it doesn’t matter. Do I have to succeed to hug my boyfriend?”  
  
Zarkon giggles, because usually her successes do affect her mood greatly, and they both know it.  
  
“Fiance, not boyfriend,” he notes, just to say something.  
  
“Future husband,” she murmurs in his ear.  
  
She suddenly grabs him, making him fall on his back, falls over, cups his face with her soft palms and covers his temple with kisses. This feels so wonderful that Zarkon can’t help a small moan. Honerva pushes herself higher on her elbows and kisses the bridge of his nose. Such affection is a rare gift – usually, Honerva is more on a colder side, accepting his fondling rather than giving her own.  
  
“Honerva, come on…” he notices unfamiliar, whining intonations to his voice. “Stop it, you’ll spoil me… and then you’ll be the one to run for your life.”  
  
“Oh, if my kisses can do that, then I’ll spoil you rotten,” Honerva laughs, but then stops abruptly. “Zarkon, what do you mean with running for my life?”  
  
The sweet intoxication of her proximity hasn’t yet worn off, so Zarkon leans in for more kisses, before his brain starts functioning again.  
  
“You'll turn me into my father,” he giggles. “They'll start a new rebellion, and you will have to escape to Altea to avoid death.”  
  
“What does it have to do with kissing? Why would I turn you into your father?” Honerva frowns.  
  
Now Zarkon comes to his senses, too, and shivers. Why couldn’t he hold his goddamn tongue? Is this how it starts? First you blabber information out when she kisses you, then before you know it, she rules your planet?  
  
“Zarkon, what does my kissing have to do with your father? Why would anyone start a rebellion?”  
  
She is out of the intimate mood completely, her eyes are very sober and down-to-earth. He can not distract her, and there is no way to retreat.  
  
Zarkon closes his eyes. Is there any possibility for damage control? Maybe tell her without too much detail? Sooner or later, she would have known anyway.  
  
„Honerva,“ he asks, opening his eyes. „What do you know about the last galran rebellion?“  
  
“Almost nothing. You never talk about it? There was one at the very beginning of your reign?”  
  
Anger clogs his throat, so that Zarkon has to take a breath before speaking.  
  
“No, it was not at the beginning of my reign. It ended my father's time, and I was the one who had to deal with it.”  
  
He says it very quietly, for fear of scaring her too much, but he is amazed by the force of his rage himself.  
  
„It happened because of my father's mistakes, because he was a weak, despicable man. He believed in democracy and fraternised with servants. He provoked the rebellion, then got himself killed, and I had to solve the problems he created. The only things he liked doing was eating, indulging in various sins and using his royal status to earn cheap admiration from the servants. I have sworn to never repeat his ways.”  
  
Maybe this will be enough for her? But alas, how could he hope that Honerva will leave something unclear.  
  
„I don't get it. What does is have to do with you now and with kissing?“  
  
Zarkon was never good at speaking about such things, and shame doesn't make it easier either.  
  
“After my mother died, my father took his close relationship with the lower class even further. He started having... concubines. He would choose women among cooks, chambermaids, he wasn't even abhorred by sleeping with gardeners and cowgirls. Since they understood what favour their position could bring, they started following around the castle and making him indecent offers, all in public, and he would only laugh and accept them. It would have been half that bad if he just slept with those women, but he let them stick their noses into state matters! Then, there was one that remained for a longer time. My father clothed her in gold and gemstones and fulfilled every her wish. People started talking that one needs to convince the commoner to get to the king...”  
  
Zarkon has to stop and make a breath. He throws a sideways glance at Honerva – maybe she isn't interested any more? But she stares at him so intensely that he has to continue.  
  
“One day, I heard people in the capital say that king's ears were between his mistresses legs. This was unacceptable, and I confronted my father about it. Back than, I failed to do anything, but under no circumstances would I want to become like my father, hence my words about being spoiled. I didn't mean to offend you in any way, though, I am sorry for bringing this unpleasant topic up.”  
  
Honerva is dead set on knowing all the detail, though.  
  
„What did you father do when you confronted him? And Zarkon, tell me everything from the beginning, I can hardly follow you since I don't know anything!“  
  
Zarkon sighs.  
  
“Nothing. He did nothing. His advisors suggested him to banish me, but he refused to do this to his son. You know what is the worst? In a way, he was a nice man, my father, beloved by people and his family alike. He liked music and literature. He built the conservatory. He never beat me or my brothers, not a single time... He even treated all those hookers so sweetly that not a single of them was angry after he left them. But what did his niceness bring him and the planet? Nothing but sorrow. And all because he was weak.  
  
He liked being liked. He was so eager to fulfil the wishes of his underlings and then bask in their thankfulness and admiration. This wish to please was his main driving force.  
  
When the northerners sent messengers to him asking for favours, he gladly listened. They started lamenting about their dire fate, how they had to live in the coldest regions of the planet, but had to pay the same taxes as everyone. They complained about not being represented in the parliament enough. About their crop failure. About something else, I don't even remember it any more. They wanted to receive tax relieves. It looked so innocent: how much taxes can you get from a northern tribe? Those poor people will be thankful to us forever, my father told to his advisors. This is exactly the time to show mercy that will bring fruits later.  
  
He did give them the tax relief, even though his ministers warned him against it. After that, others started coming and complaining about how he treats some of his subjects better then the others. My father gave in and distributed more and more tax relieves. After that, beggars started coming like an avalanche. A couple of years after that, the same northerners asked him for the permission to carry arms and organise their militia, under the pretence of fighting off wild beasts that come from the glaciers and attack. This was the line for me: there may never be parallel armed forces in one state. I confronted my father in public this time, and this time, he couldn't just let it slip. He banished me to a colony, where I was forbidden from leaving, from executing any administrative roles and from any kind of military activity.  
  
I was away, but our planet was doing worse every day. My father started a renovation program for houses in smaller towns, but do you know where he took the money for the project? He cut the budgets for regional military. The very backbone of our army remained underfunded! And at the same time, he allowed more and more people to carry arms. They came to him or to his mistress and acted more and more impudent, and he had no strength to put an end to this madness. The more he allowed, the more they demanded. Crowds have started gathering in front of the palace with banners and ask something for themselves. One day, they just refused to go and when my father ordered castle guards to chase them away, they turned on him.  
  
I was in the colony when I learned of the rebellion. By the time I arrived on Daibazaal, everything was over for my family. My father and both my brothers were torn apart by the raging crowd, the castle plundered, the capital turned into a huge battlefield and burned down nearly completely. I had to decide if I would fight the rebelling mob or go into exile. I had almost no practical military experience then, just what I read in the books, and I was thrown far aback from politics and lost most of my connections during exile, not to mention I was still a teenager.”  
  
“What did you do?” Honerva asked quietly.  
  
She has to know, Zarkon thinks with sudden exasperation. She will find out sooner or later, so better to clear it now.  
  
“Backing down was not an option: I was their king after all, no matter how inexperienced, and I couldn't let my faithful subjects down. I chose fighting and I drowned the rebellion in its own blood. The army was what I could rely on: luckily, there still were commanders faithful to their king. With their help, I mobilised troops that were still loyal to the crown and wiped the canailles out. I hanged every single of their leaders and let theirs corpses be eaten by crows. I killed everyone in their families. I disbanded the legions that betrayed me and executed every single officer that stood against their lawful ruler. I found out everyone who was supporting the rebellion with supplies and information and killed them, too. No one who actively instigated the uprising went on living. All northerners will now have to pay the double taxes until the end of time for the treason they committed. And no, I don't regret any of it, so if you don't like it, you don't really belong on Daibazaal.”  
  
Zarkon spits it out and only then dares to look at Honerva. He already prepared himself for an outburst of anger, or fear, or disgust. Instead, she looks at him with compassion.  
  
“My poor sweetheart,” she says, as if not having noticed his last words. “It must have been so difficult for you, having to act without any preparation and not knowing who to rely upon. Of course you don't regret it, you did nothing wrong.”  
  
This is so unexpected that Zarkon has to swallow down the painful knot in his throat.  
  
“I thought you'd be shocked, disgusted...”  
  
“Why would I be? You did what you had to do... Oh, wait, did Alfor say something about it? If he did, he is a self-centered asshole who understands nothing!”  
  
Zarkon utters a sad laugh. Honerva frowns.  
  
“There must have been a peaceful way, my friend?”  
  
She imitates Alfor so well that Zarkon shivers.  
  
“Honerva, there is more to it. Altean royal family was involved in instigating the rebellion. During the very first days, I accidentally exposed altean secret agents working on Daibazaal. Most of them managed to escape to Altea under circumstances that allow me to strongly suspect personal royal intervention.”  
  
“What circumstances?”  
  
If you tell the truth, you have to tell it all, right?  
  
“Someone opened them a wormhole.”  
  
Honerva gasps.  
  
“But only sacred alteans...”  
  
„Exactly. At that time, there was only one adult, experienced sacred altean – the old King, Alfor's father. And then there was Alfor, eleven years of age. Not a baby any more.  
  
Those spies must have held some important information, so that the royal family risked opening up their involvement in the matter. If I had captured them, it would have been worse than if I knew that the king of Altea has most certainly personally decreed employing saboteurs on a friendly planet. Up to this day I don't know what information they held, and it bothers me immensely.“  
  
Honerva nods, immersed in her thoughts.  
  
„Is this why you refused to re-establish diplomatic connections to Altea?“  
  
„Yes. Back then, I thought I'd never interact with anyone from the royal family, but... you know Alfor.“  
  
Honerva laughs.  
  
„Well, there is no way Alfor could have been involved in it, he was just a child.“  
  
„I wasn't much older myself, and I was involved. But yes, I do think it was the old King's doing. He was the good diplomat in the family, after all. I never asked Alfor about the spies, though. Don't ask, don't tell policy.“  
  
„No, Zarkon, I really can't imagine Alfor doing something like that! And as a child!“  
  
„I can't trust any alteans completely. The old King was so friendly and helpful, my father would lament that they couldn't spend more time together. And then I saw a rebellion ship going through the wormhole.“  
  
Honerva lies down on her side of the bed, and crosses her fingers on her stomach. Zarkon can't quite tell her mood.  
  
“I didn't mean you when I said about no trusting the alteans...” he starts, but she interrupts him.  
  
„Zarkon, weakness wasn't your father's problem.“  
  
„What?“ Zarkon feels the anger resurface. „Didn't you listen to what I just told you?“  
  
She looks at him straight, without fear.  
  
„Weakness was but one of his faults. The biggest one and the cause of the misery was his inability to clearly assess himself and his reluctance to listen to his advisors. Your father could have been a slug, but his problem was that he didn't understand that he was a slug. He should have looked upon himself impartially and realised his weaknesses. Then, he should have found people who would make up for these weaknesses, and actually considered their opinions! Then he could have been as weak as he wanted, and the planet would have still been fine. You told me that he dismissed your opinion and that of his ministers. So he was strong enough to do that?“  
  
„He still had to make decisions on his own. Honerva. Ruling is not something you just delegate: the one who makes decisions becomes the king in everything but name. And believe me, in no time, this person would have wanted to get the title, too.“  
  
„Well, he had to make the decision, yes. But what prevented him from listening to smart people and considering their points of view?“  
  
„Because their points of view contradicted his own wishes to be loved!“  
  
„Well, see? That's what I meant. He had to listen to smart people once in a while!“  
  
Zarkon can't help a smile, but his heart still feels heavy.  
  
“Honerva, your opinion is always invaluable to me, but you have to understand that no matter how much I love you, I will still have to do what I think is right. I will keep my ears where they belong.”  
  
Honerva laughs.  
  
“I really don't think your ears can be moved even an inch down. And I have no political ambition, apart from receiving enough funds for my research. Of course, I will always help you where help is needed.”  
  
Zarkon stretches his arms towards her, inviting her for a hug and, to his relief, she moves closer and leans on him.  
  
“Thank you, my love,” he whispers into her ear. “Truly, you are a blessing sent to me by the gods.”  
  
They sit quietly for a while.  
  
„What did you do to the woman?“ she asks finally. „You father's lover?“  
  
„Nothing. Not by choice, of course, I hated her. But my life was but a tick away from ending, so I had no time to worry about her. By the time I recalled her existence, she had long disappeared. She was found later, dead, and before that, robbed and raped. I really couldn't have done anything worse than what happened to her.“  
  
Honerva nods and puts her head back on his shoulder.  
  
“In a way, I am thankful to the rebellion. I learned a lot in a very short time. I learned not to trust beggars. They stretch one hand to you in a plea, and hold a knife in the other. I learned that national love is worth nothing if it is not accompanied by fear. I found out that when everything falls apart, the only place you can find trustworthy allies is the army. They swear an oath to their king, and some of them actually keep it. No democracy can be trusted. No mercy, the more you give the more they demand. No point in fulfilling anyone's requests, they never be grateful anyway. All this knowledge has really helped me build Daibazaal to what it is now. And I am glad my father banished me, otherwise I would have become like him.”  
  
“No, Zarkon, you would have never become like your father.” Honerva now sounds tired. “You personality is just fundamentally different from his.”  
  
“Less than you think. I feel his presence in myself all too often.”  
  
Honerva looks up at him.  
  
“Is this why you train like crazy and only eat the simplest foods?”  
  
“I need to train and I only eat foods that are reasonable!” Zarkon tries to remain serious, but Honerva's eyes already sparkle with humour and he knows he won't be able to hold back for long.  
  
“Zarkon, dear, you know what? I promise you that I will watch you closely and will inform you if you start turning into a lazy glutton. I think this detail won't escape me. And god forbid you from even looking at any other woman, noble or otherwise. You won't need a rebellion to die, I will kill you personally.”  
  
They both laugh.  
  
“This will be a deserved fate, I guess,” Zarkon murmurs, pulling her closer in. “Not that it might ever happen.”  
  
Her happy smile is all the reward he needs.


End file.
